As Long As You're Mine
by lemon-flavored panda beans
Summary: A tragedy befalls the Midford household and Ciel is left to ponder upon his worth in someone's world. This disappoints Sebastian, which leads him to depart from Ciel's side… and on a twist of circumstance, into Grell's arms. Four chapters. Eventual SebastianxGrell songfic and lemon.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note ::**_ A story in four chapters! Definitely under 20k at finish. =) _

_I apologize for not updating my other fanfic, I am currently in the process of getting over my OC-ness and rewriting half of it (by half, I meant those three chapters and those not posted yet). _

_Also, I hope that this chapter paced well enough not to bore you before reaching halfway through the chapter! Pacing is such a problem for me . Although I do, with all my heart and soul can afford, do promise that there shall be SebbyxGrell lemon. Sometime very, very soon. ~w~ I suck at first chapters, so please read on? It'll get better. :3_

**_Disclaimer :: _**_I wish I had Yana's genius but no I don't. I don't own Kuroshitsuji. _

* * *

**Chapter One**  
_Wavelengths of Ire_

Elizabeth Midford stared blankly at the wall, her emerald eyes devoid of its usual cheer, with her lips pressed into a grim line. A bandage was wrapped around her head, her wavy blonde tresses cascading lightly upon her small back. Only dry tears trailed down on her pale cheeks, for the lack of real ones to fall. She did not make any motion as her fiancée pulled her into an embrace, nor did his words get to her heart as it merely travelled from ear to ear. She should be happy of the empathy Ciel was showing, but her own affairs led her heart to emptiness— to nothingness.

She was aware of the butler's presence, of his impatience as he stood by the doorway like a mere spectator, waiting for the time his master finally breaks away from Elizabeth— his master who never had the willingness to do so, until he was gently reprimanded by the nurses, and until Sebastian forcibly took him out.

* * *

Ciel Phantomhive tossed and turned under his warm sheets, almost as though he was physically battered by the same harsh rain that hammered upon his manor's windows. There was nothing but darkness as he opened his eyes, but he could not help but to see Elizabeth's crestfallen image wherever he looked—it haunted him, as though her face was embedded in each and every thing he set his eyes upon. For a while, he pulled the sheets closer to his body, feeling the nasty chill of the evening rain setting upon him.

It had been eight long years since his family was annihilated by an unknown group of offenders, and in those long years, he dirtied his hands as the Queen's Watchdog, as expected of the Earl of Phantomhive. He lived only for the sole purpose of catching the perpetrator, wallowing in his anger and revenge, and thoroughly despondent of affairs not contributing to his goals.

He spent those eight long years in childish apathy.

And in those eight long years, Elizabeth has devoted herself into opening his heart to her—to make him smile.

Eight years of fruitless effort… for both of them.

And now that they shared that common experience, would it be his turn to arduously spend his days trying to make his fiancée smile?

Sighing with utter vexation, the young man unwound the sheets from himself and darted out of the room with a grunt, leaving the bed unmade like he usually would. Still in his pajamas, the dark-haired adolescent made his way to the study room, fumbling through the darkness with the light afforded to him by the flecks of moonlight shining from the gap between the curtains, and collapsed his body upon the cushioned seat.

"Sebastian!" he called out as he buried his face on his hands.

"Yes, my Lord?" the black butler promptly entered the room, holding a candelabrum with his gloved hands, casting a faint glow upon his features. His ebony tresses were combed to the back, with two fringes of hair framing both sides of his face. Had Frances been there, she would have been quick to grab those 'ghastly fringes' upon her fingers, reprimanding the butler of his lack of proper grooming. But that familiar voice was now a thing of the past, buried into the distant recesses of the butler's memory.

"Bring me some hot milk with honey," Ciel spoke without its usual arrogance, rubbing his face with his hands as he sighed.

A puzzled look crossed upon Sebastian's face as the command was given, but was quickly dispelled as he placed the candelabrum on the table and bowed at his master, a single hand placed on his chest. "As you wish." He walked out, unfazed by the darkness that awaited beyond the door.

Soon, the young earl was left to his thoughts once more. "Elizabeth…" he spoke through his gritted teeth, strands of his dark tresses trapped between his clenched fingers. His heavy breathing was audible against the silence of the night. Then his eyes widened.

_What if the culprit of my parents' death suddenly appears?_ The thought suddenly crossed his mind. _That means I will have to give my soul to Sebastian! _

Why was he faltering? The day before this, he was firm and resolute on his decision. He would command the demon to his heart's content until they could settle the terms of their contract. Slowly, he closed his eyes once more and bit his lip.

_No, I don't want it to happen… not right now, please… _Ciel pleadingly thought, as though beseeching a supreme being to take pity upon his damned soul. A roar of thunder struck from the skies outside his window—as if it was heaven's defiant _no_ to the boy's appeal. _I don't want to die yet…_

As if on cue, the black butler entered the dark room, pushing a silver tray towards the table, containing the items Ciel had requested.

This should be a familiar feeling, with Sebastian walking in with his food. But tonight, Ciel's hair stood on end, his being slightly terrified by the presence of the butler, whose sinister intents were hidden beneath an amiable smile. Ciel's thoughts were treacherous, and if the demon were to know it, his imagination could only offer so much into the things Sebastian could possibly do out of wrath. Tear him to pieces? Skin him bare? Throw him to a furnace? The thoughts petrified him tremendously.

With smooth moves, the butler poured some heated milk into the pristine white cup, allowing wisps of heat to waft around the nippy air.

"Is there something troubling you, my Lord?" the butler spoke, tearing through Ciel's thoughts, causing the latter to look up, eyes betraying the feelings he failed to articulate.

"Nothing of your concern, Sebastian," the young earl simply replied, breaking his cerulean gaze and on to the milk, perhaps slightly aware of the disconcerted expression his delicate eyes donned.

The butler's eyes narrowed as the earl reached for his cup and lifted it to his lips. "By chance… could this be about Lady Elizabeth?"

Ciel did not speak, but seeing as he almost choked on his milk, Sebastian need not to ask more. Begrudgingly, the young man glared at the butler, wiping the milk off the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Just… just get out!" Ciel spat at the butler, slamming the cup of milk back on its saucer, almost breaking the fragile object.

With a suspicious squint at the human, the butler stood for a while before cleaning up and responding, "As you wish."

* * *

Ciel Phantomhive did not want to see his face. He was nowhere the be found during his usual waking time, with only a simple note left right at the very centre of the bed's mess.

_Don't show yourself to me until I call for you. Prepare what _

_you need to, but make sure to never cross my line of sight._

Dutifully, as expected of the Phantomhive butler, he made the bed, prepared his clothes, prepared the food and tea, and made sure that everything was convenient for his young master.

Dutifully, he kept himself away from his master, though perpetually watching from a crow's eye view. From the gap between the curtains, the black butler watched as the young earl escorted Elizabeth to the Phantomhive household, declaring that the only remaining Midford is mentally and emotionally incapable of managing the household (or whatever actually remained from it). From that distance, he had to begrudgingly serve _both_ of them, never to appear in neither's line of sight, as his lovely master commanded.

He simply watched as his master drifted away from him. Ciel smiled more. He became more empathic. And despite the lack of enthusiastic response, he kept on getting out of his way just to make sure that Elizabeth lives on a dream-like paradise—happy, safe, protected— _loved._ This was perhaps Elizabeth's ultimate dream, way back during the days when she had a family to compensate for the happiness and love that she lacked to receive from her fiancée. Ciel became more patient. He became considerate and amiable. He was not as irritable of the three idiotic servants whenever they did a fiasco, as long as it did not harm Elizabeth. Ciel's world revolved around Elizabeth, to the point that he paid incredibly less attention on the Funtom Company, and much less enthusiasm (if there was ever any) to complete the Queen's requests.

Sebastian Michaelis does not know this shell of a being named Ciel Phantomhive, a man reminiscent of a young child he used to protect with his whole being. He is not interested in this soul, who clung to his soul more desperately than a crab willing to pull down one of his own for his personal gain. By hook or by crook, this boy wills to keep his soul… all for the sake of _that_ woman.

And the demon does not have a thread of desire to covet that piteous soul. It was so laughably disgusting, that even Sebastian questioned _how_ he came to fancy this one.

The house had stilled, and the silvery light of the full moon was upon them.

A shining silvery light, and the tall silhouette of a man walking out of the gates.

* * *

"Sebastian, come!"

"Sebastian!"

"Sebastian, I'm calling for you!"

"Sebastian, this is an order! Come here at once!"

The earl's voice hammered on his head, and the demon merely groaned in vexation, rubbing his temples as he rolled his eyes. This boy, does he _ever_ shut up? Was it so hard to find that no breakfast had been served for the day? How important was a morning tea, to have desperately called back his butler when it was amiss?

Sebastian would have smirked in amusement as he felt the boy's despair. He had been out of the estate for a few hours and he had already been dearly missed? Oh my. What a pretty _attentive _master he was.

_Not!_

"Seriously, how do you manage to live through _nine lives_ coveted by these creatures? I cannot even begin to imagine," the raven-haired demon spoke as he settled the cup of milk down on his table for his furry comrade. Ah, the demon didn't fancy the place as much as he fancied home and the fine living of Europe, but there were demonically amusing affairs to beheld, a lot of cats and a lot of milk in this place. For now, America might be an acceptable place to stay.

"SEBASTIAAAAAAAAAAN!" The words rung in his ears, definitely not the last he would hear of the Phantomhive _brat_. The contract seal was a bother, troubling him all the way here.

_I should get rid of it soon,_ he thought, slightly glancing at the pentagram at the back of his hand and examined it, as though scrutinizing and old nail polish that screamed only to get removed.

With a sigh, Sebastian settled his chin on his palm and stroked the calico cat's silky white fur with his other finger. Looking up, the furry animal purred lovingly at Sebastian, rubbing its face closer to the man's hand as its tail swayed graciously with its movements.

The gesture brought an amiable smile on the man's face, a bit exhausted, but amiable nonetheless. "What would I do without you?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's notes ::**_English is not my first language. If there are any glaring errors, please don't hesitate to point them out. Also, constructive criticism are greatly appreciated, in case you're willing to hurl several at me. Also, I added **Will **to the character list, because stuff~! Flashbacks here, flashbacks there, flashbacks everywhere. I hope it made sense though~ Lastly, I hope you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed writing it~ _

_In response to Nostalgic's question, Ciel is 18 years of age in this story, since I made mention of eight years after his parents' death, which puts the story at the early 1894 timeframe, supported by the mention of 'Rose tea' in this chapter, which, incidentally, was first brewed in 1894. _

**Disclaimer :: **_I don't own Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji. Yana's immense genius does._

* * *

**Chapter Two**  
_Conflicting Interests_

"Aaaah~! Will is always stressing me out!" The bespectacled reaper whined, kicking his foot wildly on the grass like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

"What do I even do with _this_?!" he asked, with a perpetual frown across his delicate features as he lifted the _pruner_ Will gave him, just so he could continue his reaper duties whilst his chainsaw remained confiscated. "It doesn't even look pretty!"

Hatefully stabbing the ground with its clippers, the reaper simply cut, and cut, as though the grass were cinematic records, until he got tired enough and slammed the death scythe on the ground, though careful enough so as not to destroy the item.

"Where is this Millicent Smith and why is she not dying yet?! I didn't go all the way here to wait for someone who's stalling their death! She's _fifteen minutes _late! At this rate, _I'll_ be late for the next one on the list! Aaaaah~! These people should just all die quickly so I can sleep already! So. Much. Overtime!" His angry chatter soon turned into gentle sniffles, the searing pain on his forehead spreading out to the rest.

He had been sitting on the grass for half past an hour now, watching the sky's cerulean turn into bright shades of gold and crimson, with the gently flowing stream reflecting the sky painted with his favourite colour.

"Would you like some tea then, to calm your nerves?" A sweet silky voice rose from behind him, an all-too-familiar voice that should have sent Grell clambering up to his feet and flailing about.

Plopping right on to the grass, the crimson reaper spread out his arms and looked at Sebastian, who donned his usual butler clothing. Oh how sexy his demon looked whenever the tailcoat swayed with his graceful movements, that vest and shirt underneath defining the features of his body whenever strained by movement. He looked sexy, even now that he crouched low, his auburn eyes meeting Grell's, with his lips curled into a smile.

"Aren't you supposed to be with your _master_?" Grell responded with a pout, vaguely remembering how their last few affairs had been obstructed greatly by Sebastian's sheer loyalty to the human. "Which errand will it be today? I really, really, _really_ wish I was that lady in Bath, you know," the reaper said, frowning dramatically at the black butler, peering at him through narrowed eyes. Oh how Grell wanted to slay that woman then and there as her pleasurable screams drifted into the air, reaching all the way to the shinigami's ears. How many times must Sebastian torture him like so, letting him listen while he deliver such pleasure to undeserving others? It was more torture than a tease.

Sebastian's smile simply widened, mildly chuckling. "Oh my. What's this hostility all of a sudden? Can't I be here for the sole purpose of visiting _you_? I even prepared something, see?"

Rolling on his belly, the crimson-clad reaper eyed the well-prepared table ahead, with a beautiful tea set already placed on their positions. Aside from the freshly-cut (or hacked) grass, Grell's nose picked up another scent, something perhaps more enticing than grass— the sweet scent of roses drifting to him, caressing his nose as though its scent alone held Sebastian's little kisses.

"Ehhh, it smells different," he plainly commented, puffing air into his cheek, wrinkling his nose to feign his disinterest.

"It's called Rose Tea, a recent discovery from Canada. Red rose petals are used, giving it a light crimson hue. It tastes pretty good, Grell. And its taste might not be as good if you keep it waiting more," Sebastian spoke as he crouched lower, his lips close to the shinigami's ear. "Or would you like to have a taste via mouth-to-mouth sampling?" he breathed, the shadow of a smile creeping on the demon's lips.

Grell looked to the side, puffy lime eyes meeting Sebastian's eager ones. He should be waiting for Millicent, not slatternly flirting with the demon— not that Grell was ever too eager about his duties, but four straight days of no rest made his body and consciousness ache for respite and that alone. Oh the injustice Will made him go through! And confiscating his beloved death scythe for drifting off to a slight nap!

No, no. Grell wanted Sebastian, if it were any other day, he'd accept Sebastian's offer without a second thought. But weariness and emotional stress pulled him from doing so. Sighing, the crimson-haired reaper lifted his finger and pressed it upon Sebastian's lips.

"Sorry, not right now," Grell whispered back, flashing a wry smile at the demon before clambering to his feet.

The last of Millicent's screams were heard as her body plummeted downwards to the stream, unable to balance her body on the large branch of a tree that protruded magnificently. Her head crashed on a rock, bathing the grey matter with the fresh blood that splattered unceremoniously from her shattered skull. Oh how Grell loved the sight of that. How he lavished seeing that. Grell lavished seeing Sebastian too, but perhaps not on this circumstance. Perhaps when his ledger ends itself.

Despite the happiness Grell had upon the sight of Millicent dying, there was a subtle hint of a torn frown lacing his lips, the subtle expression of his heart's decision being torn to bits and pieces. Oh how he wished. There was a scene that kept repeating itself at the recesses of Grell's recent experiences, and he could not get himself to ignore the nagging sensation that accompanied it. He'd leave Millicent any second, but he could not get himself to flirt with Sebastian. Not with the heart-wrenching guilt that plagued him.

_Did I... did I just get rejected? By Grell?_ Sebastian thought, speechlessly eyeing the flimsy shinigami as he walked away, his body's weariness evident with every laborious step he took. He did not want to wallow on the thought. Maybe he came at the wrong time, at the wrong place. He was a hundred percent sure that he would get his way this time, but it seemed as though a cruel hand had interfered with his affairs.

Surely, something in this world is worth staying for.

And Sebastian is yet to find it.

* * *

_Grell sighed audibly, almost heavy enough to topple the paperwork piled on Will's table. "I haven't seen him in so long. I hope he's okay," he said dreamily, twirling locks of his long crimson tresses between his slender fingers. Slumping deeper into the chair in which he sat, the reaper's dismal spirits took a turn for the worse. _

"_Seriously, Grell, if you can't silence yourself, get yourself away from my office!" The man before him finally spoke, cold fury lacing his dull chartreuse eyes. From behind the rectangular glasses, Grell could see the fright of a man named William Spears, the supervisor of the Shinigami Dispatch Management Division. _

_If Grell's spirits were a little better, the effeminate reaper would have snooped his way to Will's business, not-so-subtly trying to catch his attention with occasional brushes of their hands and slight nagging to do something less boring. Frankly, Grell was such a nuisance to Will, but a sweet kind of nuisance he'd easily find missing when it's gone. In the boring routine of his life, dealing with incompetent newbies and settling matters, Will found the other reaper's presence a bit uplifting, and simply, secretly, he relished in it. _

_For almost a month now, Grell simply became much, much more of a nuisance than ever. He kept complaining about that goddamn demon and it drilled into his head, with mallets pounding with each and every repetition of the name. Sebastian, today. Sebastian later. Sebastian all day, Sebastian everyday! _

_Grell became less concerned about Will by the day, and it gravely irked the supervisor. Suddenly, he couldn't feel Grell's tender arms wrapping around his shoulders or sycophantically massaging his body after a long day or work. Whenever dragged to a task, Grell was uncharacteristically submissive, and did not drag him around by means of wrapping his small arms around Will's. He always liked teasing Grell by giving him more work—that means more occasions in which the effeminate reaper would whine out his name like a shameless whore asking for more or perhaps ogle him until he gives in to Grell's request (which he occasionally intended, after garnering enough attention from Grell). Even the overtime coffee stopped coming. These were little bits of Grell that brought a rift in his usual emotionlessly rational countenance, like drops of creamer into the overwhelmingly strong coffee— little bits of happiness into his lifeless world. They were subtle and brief, but nonetheless made their mark, somewhere there. _

_As a response to his words, Grell slumped lower on his chair with a childish frown plastered on his fair visage, eyes fluttering from sheer indignation. Grell was supposed to be used of this, but the unnatural coldness of Will's voice made him feel smaller than ever before. Okay, William Spears was cold and calculating—that much was an obvious part of being Will. But why does he suddenly seem... very, very furious? Tears almost welled at the corner of his eyes, feeling the wave of Will's wrath crash upon him. _

"_Fine! Since there's still a few hours until the next reaping, maybe I'll just drop by the Phantomhive household and see how _my _Sebby-chan is doing!" _

'_That name again?!' Will thought, now glaring at Grell who promptly stood up from his seat and headed towards the door. The other reaper probably didn't even have the slightest inkling how much it strikes the nerves every time his lips call for 'Sebastian' instead of 'Will'. "We're severely undermanned on the field right now, with the insane amounts of souls to be reaped. This isn't the time to be gallivanting around, Grell Sutcliff!" The supervisor's voice was stern and cold, commandeering over Grell's soul as though it had invisible reins on the other shinigami. _

_Snatching the nearest ledgers, he slammed it right on the table, as loudly as he could, and pretended to ignore everything else that transpired thereafter. _

"_Fine!" Grell merely scoffed at him, snatching the ledgers with his slender fingers and stormed out of Will's office. Little did he know about the hurt and jealousy that danced on Will's eyes as he slammed the door, nor the bitter frown that replaced the grim line he often called an expression. _

_**~ x ~**_

'_He really overworked himself,' the bespectacled supervisor thought to himself as his lean figure loomed over Grell's slender physique, curled behind a tree nearby the next soul's home. He already reaped the souls that needed to go, and he made sure not to wake the flimsy shinigami. Grell had been sleeping there for four hours, and no hint of waking up in the next few minutes. Crouching low, Will lifted his hand and gently shoved away the stray strands of silky crimson locks away from the other shinigami's face, gently admiring the peace and silence that Grell afforded with his sleep. There was a pained expression that marred his face however, and Will slightly blamed himself for it. 'I might have given him a little too much," he thought, slightly patting the crimson shinigami on the head. _

'_But then again, he's not whining about that filthy demon right now, and that much is enough.' Smiling, Will carefully took the locks of Grell's hair to one side, so as not to let the breeze whip it malevolently on its owner. _

"_Sleep tight," Will mumbled with a chuckle, planting a kiss on Grell's forehead before heading out to the next soul to be reaped. _

_**~ x ~**_

"_Wiiiillllllllll~!" Grell whined at the loudest voice he could possibly muster, clinging into Will's arms as he forcefully took the other shinigami's beloved chainsaw away. "You already gave me way too much work! At least let me do it with my special scythe!" He continued on, arms wounding tighter around Will's body. _

_Secretly, Will liked this affair, seeing Grell cling so desperately at him. Fearing for the welfare of the other shinigami in the building though, he could not afford to make it last much longer. _

"_It's a punishment for oversleeping during your rounds," William replied flatly, lifting the chainsaw farther from Grell's reach. "You have literally no right to complain, Grell Sutcliff. You took the ledgers and did not complain, so I assumed you were perfectly fine with the schedule," he spoke with a professional tone, without betraying the pity he felt for Grell, and the enjoyment he had of this experience. _

"_Please? Pretty please~?" Grell pleaded, now clinging almost like a child on Will's body, slumping on the ground so that Will dragged him around with his movements. _

"_No." He said firmly as he tapped the spot in front of Grell with his own scythe, a long pruner. "Use this until you're done with your assignment. Only then can you reclaim your death scythe. Now go," Will spoke, dismissing the crimson reaper with a shooing motion of his hands. _

"_Hmph! You meanie!" The other shinigami scoffed, snatching the pruner away from Will's grip and glared at him through teary eyes. "Fine, let it be that way! I'll make sure to finish this task _efficiently_, as per _master Will's _standards." One cannot help but to notice the way he crunched his nose in disgust and curled his fingers around Will's death scythe as though he could break it with such force. _

"_Yes, I'd prefer it if you do." _

_**~ x ~**_

"_Grell! Look out!" _

_The early morning sun blazed down on the five shinigami, beads of sweat forming on their brows. This demon appeared out of nowhere and suddenly started rampaging on this tightly-packed human gathering—a fair, to be more exact. Blood spilled everywhere, and more backup came by the minute. Even with the five of them—Grell, Will, Ronald Knox, and two other shinigami, they still fared horribly against this demon and could only do so much as to restrain him. No, in fact, the only thing they were able to do as of that moment was to prevent him from going towards the more populous spots. But it was tricky, and managed somehow. _

_It seemed to be particularly attached to Grell too, amused by the way_ _he flimsily hopped away from the_ _demon's path, and a queer, almost Grell-level interest at the color red. And for half of the time, he had been the perfect bait for the demon. _

_With every evasion Grell made, William's heart anxiously leapt, seeing how close it was to harming his little flirty nuisance. _

_But on that moment, the red-haired reaper was yet to regain his composure from his last move. Will intended to simply push him away, but both of them ended up in the same predicament. A sharp gasp came from the effeminate shinigami's mouth as the myriad of black feathers pierced malevolently all over Will's physique, while his own body was shielded by that of his supervisor's, who, at that time, still chided him from not running away. _

"_How can I leave when you're like this?!" Grell retorted, horrified at the incident. The three other reapers managed to steal the demon's attention, and these less competent shinigami became the prey. _

_Slowly, despite the fight that they put up, horrible thoughts of having the whole group annihilated populated Will's mind. Grell's safety was assured, for now, and that soothed his pains, if only by a little. _

"_It doesn't matter. Go back to the Shinigami—" _

"_No!" _

_Will was the harshest man to ever exist in the world, and there was no point in arguing that out. But they had their moments, and Grell liked Will as his supervisor (probably more, if Will wasn't so easy to shun his romantic advances away). Though his attitude in the last few days morally degraded Grell, he still held the slightest bit of respect towards the man. _

"_Don't be stubborn, Grell," William spoke between his bloody coughs, using the sleeve of his uniform to wipe the excess blood from his lips. "Everyone's safety might be at your hands," he spoke weakly, breathing heavier and heavier with each passing second._

"_But—"_

"_No buts!" he commandeered, trying to sound as authoritative as he could under such dismal conditions. "I honestly can't see why you still hold yourself from killing them upon sight." _

"_I couldn't!"_

"_Yes you could. Potentially," Will breathed with a snicker, wiping the blood that trickled from the corner of his mouth. "But you don't. Sometimes, I wonder if you softened up towards those vile creatures because of that... that mongrel of Phantomhive's."_

"_Sebastian is NOT a mongrel!" Grell defiantly shouted at him, barely holding himself from slapping his bloodied supervisor. He knew that the other shinigami hated demons to the core, but that one was completely out of line! His eyes suddenly leapt with fury, and whatever respect he had for Will departed him right at that very moment. His hands suddenly curled into fists, ready to punch the life out of Will. But he quickly decided that it was too masculine, and he promptly opened his hand, lifting it to slap the stupidity out of Will... until the other reaper's words forced it to remain still, quivering at mid-slap. _

"_Sebastian, huh? Why is it always him..." Will looked at him through pained eyes, a deeper kind of pain than his body's current wounds could ever afford to inflict. "...over me?" The quickly fading spark of life in his eyes met Grell's momentarily, before looking at the landscape beyond Grell, the __sight of shinigami from the medical division slowly coming into view. "Until the end, you still choose to entrust yourself to someone not among your own. What am I even doing..." he spoke with disappointed chuckle, his eyes fluttering, "...expecting you to choose me over him." _

"_Eh?" Grell blinked, thrown into confusion by Will's words. _

_Slowly, the wounded reaper tried to lift an arm, his index finger raised. For a while, it left Grell wondering, until the soft tip of his finger brushed against Grell's skin, ending his sentiments with a little poke on the effeminate shinigami's cheek. "Don't think about it."_

_Thoroughly dazed by this gesture, the red reaper reached for Will's hands and curled his fingers upon the hand he so struggled to lift, feeling its light warmth. _

"_Will...?" _

_Grell stared at his supervisor's wishful eyes, slowly hiding behind the fluttering eyelids. Chuckles escaped from Will's lips, perhaps mocking himself for this shameless display of affection towards the other shinigami, shaking his head with the weakness he allowed Grell to see. _

"_Will..." Grell softly called out, suddenly feeling a strange kind of guilt washing over his whole being. _

_The other shinigami didn't respond as his body rendered Grell out of view, the effeminate reaper's voice barely passing through his senses. His movements finally went to the halt, and his fingers involuntarily curled upon Grell's. Not even a single word escaped his lips thereafter, curled into an exhausted smile as he lost control over himself. _

_The crimson-haired reaper frantically called out his supervisor's name while his heart throbbed wildly from within. He refused to let go of Will as he continued to ask questions, asking the other for justification. His questions were left unacknowledged and unanswered... except perhaps for a lone tear that trickled from the corner of Will's eye. _

_Grell visibly shook, unable to comprehend the scene recently immortalized in his own cinematic records. Unable to control himself, the red reaper clung helplessly to Will's body, smearing the blood all over his fair visage. _

_It took much effort for the part of the medics to separate a hysterical Grell from Will's body, but they managed to do so, over the deal that if he refused to go, he might be leading his supervisor to his ultimate end. _

_He let go, if only temporarily. Silently, his shattered heart watched the medics take him away. What had he been doing, all this time?_

* * *

Sebastian sat in silence as the moon simply kept its watchful gaze upon his figure. The tea he prepared had already gone cold, sitting idly on the teacup as the butler refused to take even a single drop to his lips. Ever since he sat on the dainty chair he procured earlier, not a single feline dared to approach him, thoroughly intimidated by the sinister aura that emanated from the demon's entirety.

First, Ciel. Then, Grell. Now, even the cats? What is this, a sick kind of joke? Whatever it is that the world is playing on him, he was definitely not amused.

He didn't want to go back and sit idly on Hell just yet, but it seemed like the world itself already prepared the conditions so that it'd be better if he simply left. But he isn't going to give up.

The demon stood up, the sinister aura materializing itself into a manifestation far more ghastly than the unseen menace that simply surrounded him. Slowly, his body shifted into an unsightly thing, shifting into a fiery blackness that vaguely resembled a human, possessing elongated claws, sinister crimson eyes and pointed teeth... and a mass of black feathers floating all around him. He does not like being treated like this, and he will _not_, at any circumstance, allow fate to play with him like so.

Tonight, he will pleasure himself unlike he ever did before, just like the demon that he is.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi~ So the third chapter is out! Third and not final, because I felt like the last part should be a standalone from all the depressing scenes I've allowed to permeate the lines of this story. Sorry this took way longer than it should have, but I feel like I have to warn you about several things.**

_Firstly, violence and gore. I tried not to be graphic, but I want you to feel Sebby's (feelings?) stuff while I'm at it. Never, never ever provoke a demon into going into a rampage. Totally._

_Second, language. Not a swearfest, but probably not something you'd expect from Sebastian. Almost OOC, but hey, this is a furious Sebby-chan we're talking about._

_Third, if you don't like the idea of seeing Elizabeth very, very disgraced, you might want to leave the chapter now. There are other things aside from Elizabeth, but I might've been a little bit too graphic on that part._

_Fourth, angst. So. Much. Angst. Just sayin'._

_Fifth, a little SebaCiel fluff. But it's not gonna end nicely. Enjoy the fluff anyway. Not as pretty as I want it to be, but I don't want the fluff overpowering next chappie's GrellxSebby._

** Nostalgia ::** Thanks for clarifying that out! I'll edit it as soon as I'm back home.

_**Now, on to the chapter!~**_

* * *

**Chapter Three**  
Little Blessings

~x~

Atrocities nourish  
this proud soul of mine-  
I do not regret,  
nor lament

I only lavish,  
selfishly...  
_eagerly._

* * *

As I carved my path towards the Phantomhive manor, a hue of crimson deeper than my own eyes splattered across the cobblestone path, leaving a carpet of red for me to walk on, the best quality carpet that's not so bumpy and disgusting as the mass of rotting corpses. No, my refined tastes leads me to believe that this— the fresh blood mapping its way between the gaps of the timeless rocks that once a witness to the atrocities that had marred the existence of this particular path on the criss-crossed paths of England, is quite a nice thing to walk on. I simply walked, without the tiniest inkling of shame as my true form came into view. Not the least bit ashamed, as I saw the terror in their eyes, overwhelmed by the majestic creature that now stood before their very eyes—and the last face to appear in their cinematic records. I would have liked to leave a little message for that shinigami who kept following me—Grell Sutcliff. But alas, I find their souls more tempting to eat than to play with.

So much pride and gluttony, yes. It almost makes me feel bad about myself, having lavished upon these garish souls that amused humans no more than a single grain of rice—too measly to fill anything, and too tasteless to call food. But it was a nice carnage, yes, to mark my own path towards the castle—the young boy's castle, full of dreams and hopes for his miserly life.

It was perhaps wrath that led me to the tall windows in Elizabeth's room, unable to restrain my muscles that ached to slander her the way she slandered me—how this little slattern, after my years of arduous service, stole my prized possession. No, the moment Ciel contracted me, he was mine. MINE! I will never, ever, with the rest of my life, forget how this little moppet defamed me with her whimsical desires. Dressing up with headbands, tutus and insanely childish articles, decorating me like a mere toy. If she only knew my real face, she would not have dared. What does she take me for? This powerful demon who never failed any of my masters and mistresses, despite the obstacles, from heaven, hell and everything in between—does she take me for something so petty?

Yes, it was perhaps anger that led me to let her sickening blood touch my skin as I gouged out her eyes, forcibly pulled her hair until her scalp opened, and clawed her body—her face, especially her yapping mouth—to a most ghastly form that she'd rather not live to see. I want her dead, as brutish as a demon would kill a mere human, but that would relieve her of the pain. No, that was too easy. I'd rather see her live through this ordeal and live her life miserably. Yes, I'd like to see that, very much.

At the bottom of my blackened heart, I believe I've had a sort of envy for this woman. No matter where she went, she had people to cherish her existence—she was showered with love and compassion, almost to the point that she had become an attention-seeking whore. No, I don't yearn to be doted upon like a little brat like Elizabeth Midford, but I envy the fact that she does absolutely nothing and still gets recognition. It's sickening, it's annoying, the fact that she gets compassion and is able to move hearts just by simply even there. Eight years. I spent that long, just to make Ciel Phantomhive mine. And it took less than an hour to make Ciel's world turn upside down—his heart, his convictions, his thoughts, his priorities—his everything.

Elizabeth's screams, pleas and whimpers resounded throughout the room as I continued to mar her body with scratch marks, crisscrossing her body, ripping her clothes to mere strips that would befit a filthy slattern of her calibre. The sound of footsteps reached my ears—several pairs of them. I'm impressed about how perked up the servants' ears had become, to hear her all the way from the servants' quarters. A smirk played on my lips as I saw them crash through the doorway, with Bard and Meirin holding their own weapons while Finnian merely held his hands curled into fists. The usual human questions came—who are you, why are you here, what do you want… but then, the horrified sight of a desecrated Elizabeth Midford quickly brought an invisible stopper without me having to do anything. But I want to do something that would carve something in their petty memories. Yes, with all the nuisance they've given me throughout the years, I think I owe them a little something to cherish our relationship with.

With one mighty swoop, I dug my claws right into the spot right below Elizabeth's abdomen—and pulled out her ovary, clutching it between my fingers. Blood dripped from the piece, further staining the mattress and the thick blankets that covered her bed. Oh, I wonder how Grell would like this. Selfishly, I don't want her to live happily. She will never live a life with Ciel, much less build a happy family where they could all be together like a picturesque paradigm. No. I want her suffering, perhaps more than Madam Red suffered from her lack of her little something. Yes, yes, the servants were mortified. I can see them shiver and hesitate. Mey-rin even stepped back, with teary eyes as her legs quivered. With my crimson eyes glowing happily in the darkness, I threw the disembowelled organ right at them, leaving the three screaming for their lives.

It was a collective scream of heightened fear that called out my dessert. In a crazed frenzy, the earl promptly walked towards the doorway, looking straight at me. His sight caught the maimed Elizabeth, and his sharp eyes were suddenly glaring at me, perhaps attempting to shred my soul to pieces. I have never seen him boil with anger like this… not since the purity of hate he had when he was horribly disgraced prior to our meeting. It was an amusing sight. Oh, how his soul smelled really nice right now.

"SEBASTIAN! What the hell are you doing?!" He shouted at the top of his voice, the waves of fury crashing out to me. "Stop this atrocity _right this moment!_ THIS IS AN ORDER!"

Oh, how amusing the three servants were, their bewildered eyes staring at me.

"An _order_?" I spoke, and the familiar sound of my smooth baritone voice made the servants leap on their feet. "Who do you think you're talking to, _human?_" My eyes narrowed, vision darkening. Right now, I can only see him, the prey I've been wanting to consume so much. The prey I've worked so hard to have.

The prey who betrayed _me._

"Stop this, _demon!_" he spoke, pointing his gun at me.

"Pointing a gun now, even? You sure have the guts, Ciel Phantomhive. I was supposed to protect you with my life, until our contract has been fulfilled. But nothing, even my demon aesthetics, will hold me from exercising my free will against those whom I find unworthy of my aesthetics." The fury in my voice equalled, if not exceeded his own. While Ciel's was a wildfire that went to me, mine contained the frost enough to freeze the human's soul then and there. I never had loyalty nor the intense respect for him, but I felt enticed and attached to his once-unwavering soul. But who is this one, right now? I don't know this human. I'm ashamed to have served such a faltering soul, that if I were given the ability to jump back through time, I'd warn myself never to feel even the littlest bit of trust upon such a soul. I felt betrayed. What does he take me for, a playmate? No, I'm afraid not.

I lifted my hands, claws pointing towards Ciel. Slowly, the damned pentagram on my hand glowed with pure white, tracing the intricacies of this little insignia that has kept me from harming this moppet earlier—Solomon's pentagram. It was a blessing to him and a curse to me, but I do not find him worthy of this protection.

Nothing, not even this insignia, shall stop my greed tonight.

Bulleting to the human, my clawed hands reached for Ciel's right eye, malevolently curling my marked hand upon the boy's head, placing the marks adjacent to each other. Ciel screamed at the top of his lungs, feeling the same searing pain he felt when I gave him this mark. But he was not a boy worthy of protection now. He betrayed the trust of a demon, and he deserves just the right punishment for such a sin.

"SE… BAS… _TIAN!" _Ciel screamed through his gritted teeth. Oh how that agony danced in my ears, like the sweet song of the morning birds twittering to each other. Oh how much I longed to crush his minute head between my hands. He treated me worse than a mongrel, and gave me such an injustice unbefitting of such a fine demon of my calibre. I'm going to make sure that he's going to regret each and every moment he looked down upon me.

I have no obligations to this human anymore.

And as our marks disappeared, nothing kept me from sinking my claws on his flesh.

"I was planning to be a nice butler to you, Ciel Phantomhive. But a traitor such as you do not deserve such service. Do you know what you deserve?" I said, leaning towards him as my eyes met his, finding the pulses of his quivering heart reflected on those rich cerulean irises.

Without so much as an ado, I leaned closer and brought his lips against mine, his warm supple lips against my cold greedy ones. I could feel his breath entering my body as he made heavy breaths, helplessly whimpering as our lips interlocked. Slowly, my clawed hands crept around his neck, around his shoulders and the other, around his small body.

He could not even mutter a single command to move his own pawns. How so unlike of him. And this helplessness made me feel so pleasant of myself. I like seeing him weak, helpless, like the pathetic little _kid_ he actually is.

I did not take him far, only to the roof dampened by the light drizzle that had been falling to the earth for a few hours now. Yes, perfect. I want him dead, alone and cold, just how he should have died years ago.

Slamming his pathetic body upon the cold concrete, I pinned his body down, and I promptly sealed his mouth with the same kiss I gave him on that room below—only fiercer… _deadlier. _His mouth was pressed into a grim line, resisting my force. But he couldn't do that. With my lips still pressed into his, my clawed hands reached for his collars and ripped right through his clothes, revealing the lanky body that lied beneath the thin fabric. As I ran my index through his chest and squeezed his nipples _ever so gently_ with the soft part of my fingers, he let out a soft moan—and I took that golden opportunity to force my tongue inside him and let the boy battle this hungry organ of mine. His little mouth was hot, and as I gently stroked its insides, he couldn't even get himself to bite my tongue. Oh how nice, this little prey of mine.

The dark-haired boy let out little whimpers, _child-like whimpers_ as I gently slid my fingers underneath his soft undergarments. He's quite used of this—he usually felt small under the force of my powerful hands whenever I cleaned his parts, but he never let out these soft moans before. Perhaps because my fingers never trailed these parts as pleasurably like so, perhaps because my hands never squeezed it like this before—perhaps because now, he can feel the pulses of desire on my lecherous hands. I could feel it too, but I do not feel ashamed of letting my prey feel this emotion.

I want him to lavish this desire.

I want him to revel from it, perhaps until his heart becomes unable to contain such pleasure.

My hands groped his small organs, gently squeezing and twisting. "Do you know how disappointed I am in you, Ciel Phantomhive?" I said as I pulled my playful tongue away from him, leaving a trail of bite marks all over his neck and chest. Of course it would leave marks, but I won't even give him the chance to live long enough to see how well I bit.

Some bites were deeper than others, while others were pleasurable, some were really, really painful—I made sure it dug through his skin, and revelled in his little screams.

"Do you regret betraying my trust, human?" I asked, pressing my body on top of him, thrusting my middle finger upon his tight, unpenetrated concave of pleasure. He let out a yelp, his blushing cheeks burning with the light, stinging sensation. "I wouldn't have the need to harm Elizabeth Midford. You wouldn't have the need to see her in such an unseemly state," I continued on, adding one more finger, rubbings its walls gently.

The heavy rain battered upon our forms, but he was pretty much protected as the cold drops of water simply dripped from my body, which was comfortably arched above his. I leaned close, nuzzling his ears… and took a gentle, playful bite, sending light body spasms on the upper portion of his body.

"Se… Sebastian…" he said weakly, panting between each syllable. "You… you really didn't have to do that…"

"Who do you think led me to _this?_" I breathed to him, adding one more finger. This felt comfortably tight, yes. I like this. But honestly, I don't think he deserves anything more pleasurable than this. "It's your fault. Only your fault. You betrayed me, made me jealous... you made me quiver and lost control."

Ciel didn't answer as I pulled his lips intertwined with mine, gently playing with its edges. His voice was muffled as I kept his tongue busy, and his backside muscles contracting with pleasure. From the noise that surrounded us, I could hear his pleasurable mumbles turn into helpless whimpers, from that to pained moans and groans.

From those innocent complaints to desperate sobs and cries left unvoiced, messages of pain from him to me as I kept his lips locked with mine. His body struggled and thrashed about under the heavy weight of my body, revolting from the pain that my hands and my mouth were giving him, from divine pleasure to intense pain as my claws dug deeper into his hole, and as my tongue reached deeper into his throat…

Reaching for parts of his body that anyone can only imagine touching…

Reaching for the precious soul that lied deep within.

He's mine.

_All mine. _

* * *

**ACTUAL CONTENT-BASED NOTES**

**1. Aesthetics ::** On Yana Toboso's Kuroshitsuji character guide, Sebastian's demon aesthetics include considering his master's orders as absolute (butler arsthetics), and following them with utmost obedience while still fulfilling his contract (as a demon serving his master). It's what keeps him obedient to Ciel in a master-servant relationship.

**2. The Pentagram of Solomon ::** See, we've never seen other canon demons in the manga, but this one actually makes sense. As opposed to having different pentagrams (the anime one is actually roughly a less intricate form of the original pentagram), I am led to believe, due to supporting text, that this is the Pentagram of Solomon (the manga symbol accurately describes the contract symbol, too!). So, if you want further details about each and every part of the symbol, feel free to do so. However, for the purposes of context in this story, I'll just put in its actual use. In a nutshell, it's a symbol that safeguards the human from the demon, should they be annoying enough for the demon to handle- this means demons can't assault their own masters so long as the human bears the mark. I don't know if the demon can actually remove the pentagram by themselves, but for the purposes of the story, I'm stashing this in.

I hope that clarifies stuff!


End file.
